Band Aids
by Cooking Spray
Summary: The adjective dense beginnings to what was intended to be a canon pairing epic with OMGMAGICK!and high drama. Unfortunately, I'm lazy, and never finished it.
1. Good Things Come in Small Packages

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Band-Aids

by Cooking Spray

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter One:

Good Things Come in Small Packages

They say good things come in small packages.

The same, as it seemed, was true with Kagome Higurashi. Japanese schoolgirl, traveler of time, miko, and part-time pet-sitter all in one pretty package. And a nurse, as well. By 'small' we meant 'very small'.

However, those mentioned, albeit our multi-tasking heroine, knew nothing of this phrase, but they still didn't believe in underestimation. Especially Shippo. And sometimes, the package from which brought forth good fortune was, indeed, a literal package.

On a dusky, chilly evening in late November, a girl emerged from inside the Bone-Eater's Well, the single greatest link between present-day Tokyo, Japan and the Sengoku Jidai. On her back was an enormously overstuffed backpack, which made your shoulders ache just by looking at it. And no sooner had both feet touched the ground than she was swamped by an adorable kitsune youkai and a rather overgrown-looking boy with a mane of snowy-white hair and dog ears.

"Candy candy candy! Kagome-chan, did you bring the candy?" the fox-like youth queried, while frantically rummaging through all of the pack's various compartments.

The elder looked at the girl in a very good replication of the way the animal whose ears he wore on his head might if he _reaally _wanted some beef jerky. "What about the ramen, Kagome?" His voice was misleadingly polite. 

She sighed lightly, but couldn't resist the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth at her friends' antics. "The candy's in the small pocket to your right, Shippo-chan." She turned to her other beggar. "And yes, Inuyasha, I have brought the ramen."

"Alright!" The kitsune was victorious. Clutched in one tiny paw was a colorful roll of sweets. Then, after further examination, "Um, Kagome-chan. . . what are they?"

"Gumballs," she answered with a brisk cheeriness as they began their descent down the side of the hill, Inuyasha obediently flanking her side. "They're like candies, only you chew them and don't swallow."

"Ahhh. . ." He eyed them with fixated wonder, appraising the saccharine confections as if they were gold.

She reached the bottom, where they'd kindly set up camp for the night. Sango's dozing face was near the smoldering bonfire, head upheld by her hands, and Kirara snuggled comfortably beside her. Miroku was just sitting, eyes closed and smiling about something that Kagome would most likely not want to know. She always preferred the lecherous monk in sleep. . . and even then she wasn't too sure that it wasn't him fondling her buttocks under the sleeping bag.

Kirara, with her sharp hearing and sense of smell, was the first to take note of their arrival. Her change in position brought her mistress to consciousness, straightening up immediately to greet her friend. The look of drowsiness that had been present on her face just moments earlier vanished.

"Welcome back, Kagome-chan! I'm glad you've returned. . . putting up with all of these men was really getting to me." Good ol' Sango always told it like it was.

Kagome laughed, clearly and loudly. These were people she could laugh with, bare her soul to! Even though they came from different ends of the timeline, she understood them better than some of her friends at school. Well, almost everyone. . .

After the satisfaction of knowing his ramen was safely stowed away in the great depths of Kagome's backpack, Inuyasha was back to being his stubborn, scowling self. He glowered at the rising flames as he slumped onto the makeshift seat of the night, a log, and began to seep into deep 'Feh' mood at the sound of the girls' giggling. Stupid humans. . . what was so funny? Moodily furrowing his eyebrows to voice his feelings on the matter, he turned away from the commune, stewing in his own thoughts and mutterings. Shippo chewed happily on beside him, colorful, sticky strands of gum plastered all over his face. Kagome couldn't help but indulge in a chuckle.

_Well, at least he's keeping his ponderings to himself_, she thought wryly as the hanyou sulked. She touched the pouch at her hip containing the jewel shards, sensitive miko fingertips buzzing with their magical resonance. There was quite a collection of them, now. . . only a hundred or so left to scout, she estimated. And what, then? This was the inquisition that gnawed on the corners of her mind at times like these. But, now was not the time to think about what would happen in the future. She should concentrate more on the present. . . what an ironic comedy there was in _that_. Allowing her thoughts to sail away through the night breeze, she sighed and leaned back, draping her petite frame over the side of the log and staring into the stars. 

Sango's voice permeated. "Mou, Kagome-chan, is everything alright?" On second thought, she crinkled her nose, and began anew. Of course everything wasn't 'alright', but that couldn't be helped. "I mean. . . are you feeling out of the ordinary?"

Her subject straightened a little, shaking her head. "No, I'm okay. . . just thinking a bit." The stars were so bright, luminous. . . it was funny, the world regressed centuries every time she crossed through the well, but the constellations never changed. . .

"Well, okay then. You seemed a bit. . . disconnected. But, if you say you're fine, I trust your word. What do you say we turn in for the night?" She shot a fast glance at Miroku as his lips began to curl upward. "Don't be getting any funny ideas, Houshi-sama. . . or I swear my next weapon will be fashioned of your hide. . ."

The monk held up his palms to defend his obviously dirty intentions. "Now, now, Sango-san, what makes you believe I was thinking anything of the sort?" Kagome snorted; she could not contain herself. She could come up with a whole _list _of reasons as to why, but refrained.

The accusation on the demon exterminator's face deepened to hollow distaste. "Lech." She lobbed the famous insult him and spun around, choosing to waste no more time dithering in an argument to which everyone already knew the victor. "Let's go, Kagome-chan."

"Hai," she consented with a small nod, leaving the 'men' alone at the fireside as they marched across the frostbitten grass to the makeshift tent. Her mood had improved. . . it seemed inevitable when surrounded by such a crew.

Later, she let her consciousness seep away under the comfort of the familiar stars, and felt more secure and content than ever.

****

~*~*~*~*~

"It's not there, m'lord."

"Search harder."

The figures' silhouettes were outlined by the incandescent light of the quarter moon. The first voice came from that of a small, hunched, brackish creature, wielding a knotted staff that stood much taller than he. The other was a bit more easy on the eyes, a tall man with an elegant mass of silver-white hair who seemed, in the reflection of the moonlight even more so, almost ethereal. They stood at the mouth of a tiny cavern, almost overlooked because of the large amount of shrubbery covering it. Indeed, in the midst of night, their pretenses looked sinister.

"But, Lord Sesshoumaru. . . I've already scoured the premises best as my frail body could carry. Dare you be foolish enough to expect more. . .?" The one named Jaken winced after finishing his words, too late he realized the wrong in them. Most surely he would receive reprimand for trifling with his master, the great man to whom he owed his life. . .

Just then another presence became known. Rustling through the grove of weeds emerged a young girl, panting in her haste as she ran to the majestic man clad in white. Jaken, for once, praised her interruption.

"Sesshoumaru-sama. . ." she reported, gasping. "I looked, but I couldn't find the thing you wanted. I don't think it's in there."

Silence. The taiyoukai faced the moon for a few minutes; the expression in his eyes was unreadable. Then, at last, he spoke. "Very well. We shall have to look elsewhere, then. . ." His calculating eyes narrowed, already beginning to determine their next destination.

A palm was pressed over her mouth as the girl elicited a yawn, beginning to blink in fatigue. "Sesshoumaru-sama, I'm sleepy. . ." At the tender age of five, she was not afraid to address the demon lord of her needs.

He could see the honesty in her eyes; exploring the cave by herself had probably taken most of her energy. Without hesitance, he gracefully knelt to allow her to climb upon his back, which she did immediately, accommodating herself and fastening her small arms to his elaborate hadori. Once she had settled against him and became comfortable, he stood again.

"Come, Jaken," Sesshoumaru called, beginning to move again.

As he struggled to catch up, his blood boiled. Damn that human child, Rin! She had brought his Lord the same news, but never was _her _answer doubted! His grip on the staff thickened. Someday, someday, when he wasn't looking, that helpless little wretch was going to get it. . . 

They breasted the hill, leaving the shadowy glade. The taiyoukai looked to the horizon, searching for a direction while he waited for Jaken. There was a bit of a cool breeze, and he could feel the imprint of Rin's tiny frame upon his back, irregular breaths of sleep mussing his hair. Almost ghostlike, a rare grin settled onto his face. Eastward, he decided.

"M'lord, please wait!" The hideous beast, wheezing, stumbled over the crest of the hill. He took a few minutes to begin breathing regularly, in oblivion to the brief 'moment' of tranquility his two benefactors were enjoying.

By the time Jaken made it to them, the smile was gone from the taiyoukai's face. "Which direction shall we be 'a headed now, m'lord?"

"East. The item that we seek lies east of this place." Without further ado he headed away from the moon, treading on with his companion close in tow. Dawn was a few hours yet. 

As they traveled along, just for the briefest of instants, so quickly you mightn't have witnessed it at all, the grin reappeared. Indeed, good things came in small packages.

****

~*~*~*~*~

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. If I did, Inuyasha and Kagome would admit their undying love for each other, Kikyo would finally die, and all of the men would decide to go shirtless 24/7. But, since that has not happened yet, you can assume that this wonderful series is not mine.

And so ends chapter one! Your thoughts? I'm in love with my beautiful ficlet! *huggles* And, just for the record, Sesshy is NOT a pedophile. He thinks of Rin more as a daughter. . . well, for now, anyway. We'll be seeing more of that later. Tee-hee. And yes, the title DOES have a purpose. I'll get to that within the next couple of installments. Whee!

Well, tell me what you all think! More reviews make my fingers happy!

~*NEXT CHAPTER*~

Papercut

What _are_ Sesshy and Co. looking to find, besides more ways to claim the Tetsusaiga? What are the hazards of snooping through Kagome's backpack while she's bathing? And finally, what's a nurse to do? 

See you next chappie! ^_~


	2. Papercut

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Band-Aids

by Cooking Spray

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Two:

Papercut

Instead of blooming sing-song and golden across the feudal island, the morning settled in with a dispirited, dull pallor. Rogue birds chirped irregularly from their perches at intervals, but they failed to make music. Even though the premise wasn't the best to begin another expedition, nothing could spoil Kagome Higurashi's elation at finding a warm hot spring in the middle of the late-autumn chill.

"This is _great_!" Kagome heralded gleefully, shrugging off the top of her school uniform. All of the emotion of the previous night had been pushed out of mind with the coming of the new day. "What unbelievable luck. . . a _hot spring _right when we need one!" 

Sango seemed to share some of her friend's mirth as well, undoing her armor with more enthusiasm than usual. "Yeah, we'd better take advantage of it while it lasts. . ." She aimed a nervous glare at the foliage. "I hope that perverted monk doesn't try to spy. . ."

Kagome pressed her fist to her mouth as a little chuckle escaped her lips. Sango was always so uptight. . . well, she really couldn't blame her with Miroku constantly feeling her up. But, this was their chance to relax, and who _knows _the next time they'd get to do that, so she opted for reassurance.

"Nah, I don't think he'll risk being a peeping Tom today. We made it pretty clear we'd like to have some privacy. Besides, Miroku isn't that bad of a person, really. . . fondling aside and all." Finally undressed, she slipped a towel around herself, awaiting the response.

"Not really that bad?! Kagome-chan, how can you say that?" Well, she tried. Sango began to shake, wrenching her towel in her hands and apparently forgetting where she was. "He's the most lewd, indecent, repulsive, vulgar, lying, cheapskate womanizing jerk, and just _thinking _about him makes me want to. . . makes me want to. . ." 

Large bead of sweat at her forehead, Kagome tried to soothe her very vexed friend. "Er. . . relax, Sango. . . I'm sorry. Miroku's really not good at all, I take it back. Please, can't we just. . . soak now?"

That seemed to mollify her. Kagome breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry. . . that I raved on like that." Her face colored. "It's just that. . . Houshi-sama makes me so angry. . ." They shed their towels and slipped into the soothing, steaming water.

Voluminous raven hair floating in the water, Kagome tried to laugh, but the nervous quaver at the end spoiled it. "Well, I can't really blame you." Nothing filled the air then but the bubbling of the spring water, and it was clear the touchy subject needed changing.

"Ah, this feels wonderful. . . almost like a massage. The water's so warm. . . I don't think I ever want to get out!" Sango, wearied by her previous outburst, lowered her body further below the surface until only her nose and eyes peeked out of the water. "Mmmm. . ." 

Soon the two maidens lost themselves in the warm caress of the spring water, Shikon shards and perverted monks the furthest things from their minds.

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~*~*~*~*~

Inuyasha was bored.

He leered from his standard outpost at the top of an ancient tree, arms crossed in reprieve and body slumped against the massive branch. Shippo was sleeping, who _knows_ where that stupid monk was, and the girls had left earlier, all giggly and stupid at the prospect of taking a bath, with warning not to peek in or many 'Osuwaris' would soon follow. Why did women need to bathe so much? A little dirt never hurt anyone. It was one of the many mysteries of mankind that he would likely not unravel.

His ear twitched at a rustle of leaves on the ground. Inuyasha looked down to find Miroku smiling up at him, holding an object which, after a close inspection, he discerned as Kagome's backpack.

"Hey, Inuyasha. Would you like to have some fun?" There was something about the way the priest talked and smiled that irritated the hanyou, but he never could quite grasp what.

Golden eyes made contact with the figure below a few seconds longer before he turned his head away. ". . . Feh. That's Kagome's stuff. Leave it alone."

Miroku was undaunted. He had an evil idea in his head, and he wouldn't stop until he carried it out. Working his charm, he enticed, "You could have all the ramen you ever wanted. Just think, it's all in here. . ." He jiggled the pack for emphasis.

That seemed to spike dog boy's attention. In painful slow motion, he craned his head back in the direction of Miroku. If his gaze could have frozen, the monk was most certainly an icicle. However, his eyes were chiefly on the pack, looking at it as if his vision could penetrate the fabric to see the contents inside.

Many prolonged moments later, the hound leapt from his post onto the leaf-littered ground. Inuyasha was still a skeptic to the proposition, as Miroku's brilliancy in the past, while it had bought them a free night's stay at countless inns, proved very hazardous. He approached with caution. 

"So. That's just Kagome's weird pack thingy," he sneered. "What's so fun about it?"

"Ah, not so, my furry friend." The crease of discontent on Inuyasha's face widened into a canyon. "You shall see." Ever so gingerly, he grasped the "zipper" between thumb and forefinger, and, like he had seen its owner do many times, slid it along the metal track until both boys could see the forbidden contents that lurked within.

At the peak of the mound was a notebook, that, when flipped through, proved to be nothing more than some boring school notes and therefore nothing of interest. Both dug further into the pile, furtive, like two naughty little boys playing in Mother's jewelry. If curiosity killed the cat, it would do much worse to the dog. 

The second item was more intriguing. It looked like another notebook, only with a dopey little picture printed onto the front and a lock. All perseverance was summoned to find the key, but at last it was discovered, stowed away within a hidden compartment amongst some odd things in crinkly wrappers and jewelry, obviously intended to be kept secret.

Our smooth thieves were not turned off by this, however. They were too absorbed in their excitement to be bothered by the consequences of being caught red-handed. Miroku fumbled with the key a bit, trying to wedge it into the hole, but with a few good tries it became unhinged and the pages spilled open, Kagome's private life exposed for anyone to read.

"It says, 'Dear Diary, I am so fed up with that aggravating Inuyasha today I feel as if I could wring his hanyou neck.'" Inuyasha snorted, now thoroughly engrossed, and Miroku tuned his voice pitch to match Kagome's own feminine tone, getting into the act. "'I swear, boys haven't gotten any more mature than they were six hundred years ago. What jerks!'" They both howled.

Oblivious to the danger they were in, the two read on, illegal in their bliss and surely in for the disciplining of their lives.

****

~*~*~*~*~

Ah, nothing like a bath to refresh one's spirits. High-minded and squeaky-clean, Kagome and Sango marched camp-ho, carrying the bucket full of toiletries with them. Sango had been entreated to the beautification wonders of the twenty-first century, and had ever since been bugging Kagome to bring her some lip gloss and a blow dryer back the next time she went back through the well. The sun had even begun to make a chink through the miasma of gray clouds. Now, if only those boys had behaved, things would keep moving smoothly. . .

Entering campground, Kagome froze. Conversation was bubbling up from the forest. . . No, it couldn't be. They wouldn't be _that _insensitive. . . but as she walked closer, she heard that the words being broadcast were indeed those of her diary, in Miroku's fake sassy staccato. All joy melted into the swirling vat of her boiling anger, and, without a second thought, she left a bewildered Sango behind and trudged towards the sound to let the carnage commence.

When Inuyasha saw Kagome march heatedly through that clearing, his ears flattened against his head and he knew he was done for. There was no way now of concealing their dirty deeds - they'd been caught in the act, and, no matter who initiated it, they'd better be ready to face her wrath._ Here it comes, _he thought, beginning to cringe as he imagined himself familiarizing with the taste of earth and tree roots.

"What. . . do you both. . . think you are doing?" she hissed, looking ready to kill. Anyone who knew the girl at all would immediately admit demise and surrender to their fate. Then again, Miroku never did know when enough was enough.

"Oh, good morning, Kagome-sama! We were just checking your baggage for evil spirits, and seem to have been alarmed by this particular piece of luggage. You don't mind, do you?" He was really pushing the envelope.

"Don't. . . mind?" Her eyes took on an evil glint. "Don't _mind_?! AUUUGH!" she screeched, lunging toward the accused. Miroku evaded her touch, but Inuyasha, into whose hands the diary had been mysteriously thrust during the transition, was not as fortunate. All one-hundred-ten pounds of livid schoolgirl were suddenly thrust upon him in an eyeblink, bringing both to the ground. 

"Gimme back my diary!" she howled, making a mad reach for it. The hanyou, desperate to escape the uncompromising position and wishing he'd known better than to indulge in Miroku's kind of fun, struggled beneath her grasp, his eyesight largely obstructed by a large quantity of puffy black hair. 

"Ooomppff!" A good jerk had freed him of her chokehold. She rolled off onto the ground, leaving him with the ransom. At that time Sango burst through the trees and into the spectacle, gaze shifting from the tug-o-warring Inuyasha and Kagome to the half-open pack to innocently-grinning Miroku as she pieced things together. The last item gave everything away, and, face clouding over, she headed toward the perpetrator.

"This. . . was your fault, wasn't it, Houshi-sama?" Her voice was eerily frigid.

Nervous hands scratched the back of his neck. "It was only innocent fun, you see. We like our traveling mates to be safe, and we can't be sure until we see there isn't anything dangerous lurking in their backpacks. These are very dangerous times, you know." His hopeful defense fell on deaf ears. He gulped. Here it came.

"Ugh, the audacity of you!" She delivered him a swift punch to the gut, Sango-style. "That's not any way to treat a lady's private belongings!" Pure, concentrated anger simmered in her features as the monk looked up to her from his new position, and perversely it allured him.

"Such emotion, Lady Sango. . . you look especially attractive when you're trying to have my head." It was too tempting.

A blush of indignation swept her face, but it only added to her fury. "HENTAIIII!" Another blow was administered, this time to his head. It toppled the priest over, and she stood over him looking flustered and every bit as hot-tempered as an angry hornet.

"Ahh, how I'd missed this touch. . ." he moaned, rubbing the lump on his head. "They say right, love _does_ hurt."

Victorious, yet something inside of her sinking at the fact that she'd not deterred her prey a bit, she stalked of with a, "Hmmph!", cheeks still carrying their pink hue. Infuriating monk. . . 

In the meantime, violence had ensued as Kagome fought to regain her diary. Currently, Inuyasha was sprawled into the ground, prayer beads aglow, diary still in hand and unable to get a word in edgewise. Kagome, flushed with exertion and the shame of knowing her most innermost musings had been read, continued to sit him 'till kingdom come, or at least until the diary was back in her possession. Either way was fine.

"Osuwa-" The fated word had barely left her mouth than Inuyasha turned in the towel, whining for her to stop.

"Stop, stop! Here, take your stupid diary! We only read the first page anyway! Just. . . don't sit me anymore!" He wobbled out of the pit his body had formed, all too gratefully handing over the accursed thing.

She practically snatched it away, holding it close to her and stuffing it into her ransacked backpack. The zipper closed with a resounding _ssszip! _and thus, finally, the drama came to an end.

All parties involved, now with the inclusion of Shippo, who had miraculously awoken not by the intense racquet but by the lack thereof, took a few minutes to regain their bearings. Kagome's temper cooled, as she knew at last her diary was safe, and took a look around at the aftermath. Somewhere in the tangle Inuyasha had received a papercut, which he was now nursing like the baby he was, and Miroku sported a very nice shiner atop his head, undoubtedly of Sango's doing and probably well-deserved. She had to smile. No matter how angry they made her, she was always the one to mend their wounds in the end, and wrapped up in those bloody bandages was the core of their friendship. Even though it seemed sometimes the fibers stretched so tight they would snap, or someone was hurt so badly everyone thought they'd leave, the scars always healed with time. Sure, there was plenty of darkness - in her past and everyone's - but with their combined efforts it was certain that they overcame and emerged victorious.

Okay, enough mushy stuff. Kagome pulled on her scrubs and launched into her Compassionate Caregiver role. She went to fetch the first-aid kit, breaking out the peroxide and the band-aids to do a little maintenance, both of the physical and mental variety. First patient: Inuyasha.

He looked at her with eyes full of reproach, and she did her best not to begin giggling at his expression, one filled with childish obstinance. She revealed the sterile pads and band-aid she held in her hands, easing down onto the ground next to him. He allowed her, but the didn't change.

As Kagome gently pressed the alcohol-saturated cloth to the tiny incision, Inuyasha shrank back and whipped his head away at the sting. "Wench."

"You got what you deserved. You shouldn't have been messing around with my diary." She stripped the bandage of its wax paper.

He growled. "Miroku's the one who got the idea to root through your stuff. I just did it for the ramen."

Off with more protective paper. "Well, you should have had better sense than to listen to him, of all people." She spoke with sarcasm.

"Feh."

She hesitated in affixing the band-aid, its sticky cling still adhered to her skin. This was different than before. Inuyasha seemed. . . almost upset. Her heart sank. It wasn't because of her, was it? Did he think she was. . . a violent, mean person? Or. . . someone to be feared? She shuddered at the last part. _Well. . . you'd better fix this one, too, Nurse Kagome_, she conceded.

"Inuyasha. . ." Her mind scrambled to find the words. "Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have been so. . . brutal." She cringed to say it. "I was embarrassed, I overreacted. But. . . you still shouldn't have gone along with Miroku. My diary is very personal, and I just didn't want you reading it." A great sigh tumbled from her. "I'm sorry."

"Damn right you are." His tone was still jeering.

Annoyance pulsed in her again. "Hey! I'm being perfectly honest with you, and even giving you an apology when I'm the one who should deserve one. The least you could do is give me some respect!"

His head was still turned, and he looked as stubbornly angry as ever, but after a while he jabbed out his injured finger. "You'd better be quick." It was his way of forgiveness.

Negative feelings rapidly being sucked into Oblivion, a grin inhibited Kagome's features as she wrapped the band-aid around Inuyasha's finger. "Okay. It'll heal now."

The hanyou, not quite a boy, but not quite a man either, stood, Kagome rising with him. "Come on," he beckoned to the others, "let's go."

And thus ended a typical morning in the company of these five in the Sengoku Jidai.

****

~*~*~*~*~

Most certainly it lie here. Repugnant was its aura, a gradient trail that neared him to what he so sought with every step. The day had already began in overcast, but in this particular clump of trees, deep in the thicket of an unknown wood, it seemed the surreal black of night.

A peculiar mist had begun to form, stale-smelling and foreboding. Sesshomaru felt a tiny hand crush itself into the folds of his robes, and sensed Rin stiffen, frightened. With a lamb's touch he uncurled her fingers.

"There is no need for your fear. Should we find ourselves in a dangerous situation, you should know that I am far more superior than any creature that prowls in this forest." The girl relaxed a little, comforted by the truth in his words, but she remained edgy, jumping at every sound.

The dwelling that they approached did indeed hold the air of shady going-ons inside its hastily covered windows of shattered glass. Yet here was where the Lord insisted bequeathed the item. Jaken was not at all appeased by the stench of mortal blood that wafted from it, but his yielding mistrust would not do him any favor in the venture.

They reached the doorstep of the crude establishment. Before Sesshoumaru had time to announce his presence, a grubby and unshaved face poked out from a rectangular vent in the door, eyes suspicious.

"Who're ye be, demon, and what're ye wants with us? We haven' any dealins' with ye, so ye'd bes' explain." His tone conveyed meaning.

A man brave enough to stand before him. Well, his lack of cowardice earned him a bit of tolerance. "I am but a wandering demon; you need not know more. I seek you out because my senses tell me that you possess something of my desire." Rin's hand again was pressed into him, but this time he made no attempt to brush it away.

"We've many items of desirin'. I'm afraid ye are not bein' clear enough."

The man was holding his ground. "The item of my desire," he spoke to the callous mortal through the peephole, "is known by the name of the Komamachi mirror."

To this Jaken must pipe up. "A mirror, m'lord?" he asked in disbelief. "Why a mirror? Surely you have no use for such a thing-" His words weren't paid any attention to.

"And what purpose do ye intend for this mirror?" Suspicion laced his voice.

"If you insinuate that I am being faint, you are wrong. The reasons why I desire the item aren't of your concern. Your concern is simply to deal to those who come to you what they ask." His resolve was unshakeable.

"Ye are no fool. Ye may enter." The vent was sealed and the door opened into the dark reaches inside, bearing a sealed, musty scent. Surely even the most black market rebels and thieves would not dare to tread here. Rin's stronghold became more weighted.

Piled upon the walls were heaps of obscurity, most likely acquired by sinister means. Some were filled with the ethereal beauty and intrigue of mortals, others more foreign and alien. A customer walked here knowing exactly what is was they intended to bargain, if they had the guts to bargain for it.

"Welcome," said the man from the door vent, now in full view, "to our stronghold. Ye best be certain what ye lookin' for."

A nod was received from the demon lord. "I would not have seeked out this place without full intention of carrying through my goals. You are assured of the nature of my intents."

Solemn, the apparent doorman voiced acceptance. "Aye, then. I'll return with our master, then." And with that he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Rin, still uneasy about her surroundings, slowly withdrew her quivering grip of Sesshoumaru's robes, chancing a full look at her surroundings. Eerie shapes inched toward the low ceilings in fearful measure, the tightly drawn windows consuming all of the light so that one single ray of sunshine was not allowed to penetrate. Mounds of unknown oddment enveloped all of the wall surface, their shapes unfamiliar and threatening. One was an especially alluring harp-like ornament, its brassy gleam enticing her eye. She dared to touch it, the loving object, to own it forever. . . She reached out. . .

Sesshoumaru saw in an instant what was happening and immediately locked onto her hand, hold firm. She snapped away from the harp, looking disconcerted. "S-sesshoumaru-sama. . ."

"Do not touch anything here, Rin. The likes of these objects are not to be trusted; that harp was most likely affixed with a curse." He removed his hand, facing away into the sea of inky shadow. 

"Such a shame you stopped her, m'lord," Jaken muttered with a derisive cackle. The taiyoukai indefinitely caught his words by way of his superior hearing, but feigned ignorance. Such was best in the case of simple-minded, lesser beasts like himself.

Irregular footfalls became clear from beyond, and at last two figures emerged. The coarse doorman gave the briefest possible introduction. After all, each of us has our secrets to keep.

"Our master, to whom ye have requested dealins'. Ye may address him with respect, and no less, if ye wish to fulfill ye goals." He gave a half-bow and receded back into the darkness. 

The man was a bit disappointing for those who expect superiors to be great, hulking men, large and powerful in every way. This 'boss' was gaunt and swathed from head to foot in an all-concealing robe of ebony, with a like voice like a crackling whisper. But, how appearances can deceive.

He spoke. "So, you want the Mirror, the elusive mirror that binds both fantasy and reality into one tangible thing." His gaze was direct and unflinching. "You are aware that nothing I give comes without consequence."

Sesshoumaru matched his demeanor. "I have come here aware of this fact, and am preparing to do whatever required as long as you grant my wish."

"Very well." He pulled forth a rather dingy-looking circlet of reflective glass, mounted upon a tarnished but intricately sculpted base of copper. "There is no true condition for my giving you this particular item, for it in itself is task enough. I do not preach to my customers on what they intend to do with what I give them, or how they should implement it; I merely supply their needs for when they come to ask. You appear to know well what you want and the course you will take with it; and I doubt anything I would say would make a great amount of difference anyway."

A smirk. "You know me well. Indeed I most likely would not reap your counsel, I would go on as I wished. You are wise, for a mortal."

"And surely you gather my meaning when I say there is not a debt to pay, as there is for most, with the Mirror." He placed it into the taiyoukai's hands, letting him get a glimpse of himself reflected in the seemingly ordinary hand mirror.

"Your meaning does not elude me."

"Go, then."

They exited then from whence they entered, with twice the precious cargo than before. And, unbeknownst to even Sesshoumaru, also twice as much unfathomed disaster waiting to happen.

****

~*~*~*~*~

Disclaimer: Rumiko Takahashi wrote the first Inuyasha manga in 1996, when I was in first grade and dicovering the wonders of color-by-number and stick figures. Which, of course, should be proof enough that this onderful series is not mine.

Hee-hee:P Tried to work a slice of comedy into this one. Keep in mind that these chapter are just plot-building, so if you haven't satisfied yourself yet, there's probably something still down the road.

Also, if you hadn't noticed, this is a _serious _story, with a serious plot and so on, so forth. Of course, there's also a hefty amount of that lighter stuff, just because I a sucker for comedy and romance and so is Rumiko Takahashi.

Previews, just like in the movies! 

~*NEXT CHAPTER*~

Snowbound

Travel plans are dampened (literally) as large amounts of white, fluffy stuff descend from the sign. As everyone shares campfire togetherness, mysteries begin to arise. . . not the least of which is Miroku's cooking. Complication!

****

****


	3. Snowbound

****

Band-Aids

by Cooking Spray

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 3:

Snowbound

The first flakes of snow began to fall late that afternoon, cascading to Earth on their windswept journey and shrouding the landscape into a palisade of sparkling white. However, with the beauty came the cold, and a thin school uniform does little to prevent it from penetrating your skin.

A droplet of precipitation landed on Shippo's nose, making him squinch his eyes in reaction. He stared at the inflicted spot, becoming cross-eyed for a few moments, and soon pinpointed the miniscule snowflake as the cause of disaster. "Mou. . . Snowflakes?"

"Mmm?" Kagome questioned, craning her neck to look at the tiny kitsune youkai resting on her shoulder. They'd been traveling for quite some time, and she was looking forward to making camp again soon.

"It's snowing. . ." As if to prove his claim, a fresh drift of powder began to descend from the heavens, falling with increasing speed and rhythm.

Miroku scrutinized a flake as it fell upon his fingertip. "Well, what do you know. . ."

Sango stopped to stare up at the comfortably overcast sky, watching as the pluming splendor wafted down. "Winter's setting in early this year. . . I hope that the snow won't complicate things too much. We were nearing Naraku again."

Inuyasha, who had recovered fully from the papercut incident and was back to acting like his tough-guy self in redemption, just muttered annoyance at his companions. Stupid humans. They would rather sit around and babble about some dumb snow than focus on the mission ahead. . . Needless to say, he could have pulled off the attitude better if hadn't been wearing a Hamtaro band-aid on his finger. 

". . .Feh. C'mon, Kagome." He seized the girl by the wrist and trudged on ahead, making her stumble and almost fall into him headlong.

"Aahh!" She found herself impressed into his back. Ah, gravity. "I-i-inuyasha. . . stop being so pushy. . ." She attempted to twist free, but a shiver coursed through her as an unexpected gust of wind ripped through her thin clothing, and she fell slack against him again. Well, on second thought, maybe this wasn't so bad. . . At least he seemed to be warm. . .

The others trotted into view at their own pace, Kirara bouncing along at the rear. They seemed to be discussing new battle tactics. Well, if they could do that in the midst of an impending blizzard, that suited Kagome just fine. At least they'd be ready when it was time for battle.

The wind chill increased and the flakes began to come down harder, starting to blur vision. This looked bad. Kagome was already chattering her teeth, and judging by Inuyasha's mood, the weather didn't seem to be too much of an obstacle for him. She envisioned everyone trying vainly to match his pace in an hour or so, covered in ice crystals. She sighed, knowing what she must do. Well, here goes. . .

"Anou. . . Inuyasha, do you think you could. . . maybe stop in a little while? I'm feeling a little cold," she added, chattering her teeth harder in emphasis.

Our slightly perverted priest apparently tuned into this. "Yes, Inuyasha, I think that might be a wise idea. After all, we're useless if our shard-seer has become an ice sculpture." He gave Kagome a wink that, panty-pincher or not, she was grateful for.

He couldn't believe it. How had he chosen such _wimps _for traveling companions? "Stop?" he snorted in disbelief. "We'll be near Naraku in a few hours. How can you even think of stopping? This weather's nothing."

"Inuyasha, pleaaaaaaaase?" Kagome was desperate. Already she was having to flex her toes and fingers to keep them from going numb. Her chocolate eyes were too large and pleading.

Damn that girl! She had to go and look all cute like that, didn't she? Now there was no way he could refuse. He ducked his head out of sight so she wouldn't know she'd gotten to him, and reluctantly consented. "Fine. I want you to know you're all a bunch of useless imps if you can't even stand some measly snowfall. I don't know how you're gonna last against Naraku." He turned to glare at all of them. "Just for this, we're leaving before sunrise tomorrow, since you insist on wasting so much time."

Victory! "Yatta!" Kagome chorused joyously, springing up and enfolding the bewildered hanyou in a happy embrace. The color in his cheeks began to rise against his will at this open display of affection, and he became all-too-aware of how close she was. "I knew you'd understand!"

A sly little grin crept onto the female demon exterminator's face. "You know," she said to Miroku, "she's got to stop doing that. One of these days she's going to give him a heart attack."

The priest just laughed, continuing to watch the spectacle, and Sango couldn't help but feel a pang of warmth at the genuinity of the sound.

****

~*~*~*~*~

Somewhere, in the deep of a nostalgic cave, there shone a circlet of fire-bright light. Even though it was of one dimension, it shone a million metamorphous refractions that dazzled the eyes. It truly was a marvel.

Hunched over the circlet there were two figures, one of much height and another who was yet low to the earth. Both, however, stood like equals bathed in the purifying touch of the mirror's reflection.

"What. . . is it for, Sesshoumaru-sama?" spoke the small girl after a great mystifying pause, her voice nary a whisper.

For a moment, the taiyoukai almost seemed to hesitate. But surely that could not be, because there was nothing he was uncertain about. "It is the mirror that contorts imagining into fact, and fact into imagining. The mirror that pulls from the souls of whom dare to glance into themselves in it. Komamachi mirror."

"Desired long life. . .?" Rin translated, her mind a jumble.

A nod. After a few moments more he elevated the mirror from its position on the floor, all of the luminescence diminishing. The glass rippled and it appeared an ordinary hand mirror. He searched into it, being met only with the image of his always nondescript face.

"What will you do with it, Sesshoumaru-sama?" Now Rin was curious. Though she'd seen more bloodshed and worldly horrors than even the average five-year-old of the time, the magical allure of this elusively ordinary mirror attracted her interest.

"I shall gain back what is rightfully mine from all of those who have stolen from me." He set it with an echoing _plink! _face-down onto a nearby rock formation without further comment. Rin knew that Sesshoumaru had been cheated of many things, some of which she knew very little. But she knew that this upset him very much. Rin didn't like him to be upset, so getting back what these mean people had stolen with the magical mirror seemed like a very good idea. This made her like it even more, and she stared at its shining copper base with fondness.

While she was still enjoying the great novelty of this, a new realization dawned upon her that caused her to begin searching the cave. One of them was gone. "Where is Jaken?" asked Rin to Sesshoumaru, confused.

"He is running errands for me." The shortness of his voice indicated that something else was clearly wrong, but Rin didn't think it very prudent to pry. It seemed sometimes that her Lord had no heart, like that girl with the arrows said, but she knew he never got annoyed with her questions. And since no one before in her life had listened very much, this gave him more credit in her book than most would have thought.

"So it is just Sesshoumaru-sama and me?"

"Yes."

The sight of her joy at this made the ghost-grin almost, but not quite, resurface of the demon lord's face. Almost.

"I like that."

For once, perhaps the first time in years, Sesshoumaru was at a loss of words to say to that. So instead, he allowed her to curl up next to him and sleep, feeling a strange twinge not so far from the mark of content at her presence.

When Jaken returned much, much later that night to find them both sleeping together, like he had never seen his lord sleep, he was so astounded that he dropped the two buckets of water he had balanced on his back and watched in awe as neither woke.

****

~*~*~*~*~

"Eat up, everyone!"

Five pairs of eyes followed the monk apprehensively as he sat a vat of boiling soup with pride over the fire that was warming the hut. They were hungry, yes. . . but as they caught a glance of the acclaimed "food", the hunger rapidly began to rethink itself. 

Sango's eyebrow disappeared beyond the boundary of her bangs. "Are you. . . certain that this is edible, Houshi-sama?" She held her bowl and spoon with a more hesitant poise.

He laughed heartily, making her wince. "Of course, Lady Sango! Whatever would make you doubt my culinary skills?"

"Quite a lot of things you're probably not aware of. . ." she mumbled, but he failed to catch it.

Even Shippo, who was usually always enthusiastic when it came to food, seemed a little wary. "What's _in _that stuff?"

Inuyasha sniffed, wrinkling his nose. "Smells a little like. . . youkai droppings. . ."

Miroku's pride was beginning to sag. Kagome noticed this, and, with only a gulp and a glance at the cauldron, quickly set out to right it. It couldn't possibly be _that _bad, could it. . .?

"Oh, I'm sure it's just fine," she piped in a tone meant to assure, setting her teeth into a very forced smile. A look in Miroku's direction. "Could I have a bowl, please?"

Everyone looked at her with silent disbelief as Miroku proudly began to ladle the foreign matter into her bowl. "Certainly, Kagome-sama!" He gazed at her expectantly as he sunk the ladle back in, hands on his hips in a strident pose. "Tell them how good it tastes."

Another dreadful look at the soup. It did smell a little foul, now that she noticed, and there were strange lumps in it. . . Well, there was no backing out now. She'd volunteered, hadn't she? With one last, deep breath, the shoved the spoon into her mouth and awaited her fate.

"Did you just. . .?" Sango's expression was a mixture of revolt and pure horror.

"See, I told you it was edible!" Miroku announced with newly-instilled confidence.

Sango didn't look so convinced. "I'm not so sure. . . Kagome-chan?"

Kami-sama, save her. The stuff was _awful_. She'd gladly have eaten anything rather than this. It tasted like a putrid blend of the worst possible rancid things; where Miroku had conjured up ingredients this disgusting completely blew her mind. Sango's voice barely registered, and her throat began to close shut. If death had a flavor, this was it. Please, say she didn't have to swallow it. . .

Inuyasha blinked, looking at her apparently petrified stupor with concern. "Kagome?" No answer. "Kagome?" A faint whimper. What had that monk done to her? "Miroku! What'd you put in that crap?" he demanded of the now-uncomfortable-looking monk.

"Ah. . . only the ingredients that were in that recipe book of Sango's. . ."

Now she was angry. "Idiot! That wasn't a recipe book; that was tome of demon combatants! Are you trying to murder us?!"

Kagome began to whimper more urgently, bringing Inuyasha's attention back from his momentary thoughts of homicide toward Miroku. "Kagome!" He began to beat her on the back, perhaps a little too hard, but eventually it worked and she spat the vile stuff out, looking both frightened and relieved.

"Are you alright?" He gripped her shoulders, jerking her body to face him. His saffron eyes radiated undisolved anxiety.

She didn't nod right away, still dazed by the after-effects of the killer soup but also enjoying the hanyou's attention. Eventually she bobbed her head up and down, and he released her in relieved satisfaction of her well-being, focusing as everyone else was on the unfortunate monk.

"Houshi-sama. . . you're so gonna pay for this. . ."

A nervous bead of sweat formed at the accused's head. "Now, wait just a moment here, I didn't mean to-"

"Silence! Criminals who don't have any compassion for my friends don't get alibis!" Shippo shouted in reprimand as he too joined in the action, thrusting a now-you're-gonna-get-it finger. "Sic him, Kirara!" 

Kagome sighed at the sounds of violence that ensued, cringing again as the horrid taste flooded her taste buds. Perhaps they'd better stick to ramen from now on. . .

****

~*~*~*~*~ 

The snow that had fallen unrelentingly since that afternoon had began to slacken, the gusts of wind less harsh as the night crept on. The fire had dwindled into a comforting, humble blaze, and the accursed soup had been disposed of. Cots were being unsheathed and spread upon the floor in hopes of sleep for a full day of traversing ahead, but for most closing their eyes were the last things on their minds at the moment.

Miroku, still drawing pain from the bruises of his previous beating, was definitely not dreaming of shutting his eyes yet. The lack of conversation between he and Sango as they laid their beds upon the ground was thick in the air, and as he caught sight of the tightness of her jaw, he decided then and there that he must end the conflict between them again, rather than go to bed angry.

He abandoned the mattress and straightened, watching her posture constrict as she sensed him about to talk. Great sigh tumbling from him, he launched into the difficult speech.

"I wouldn't have tried to feed you that soup if I'd have known what it was." Leave it to Sango to get all worked up about something as trivial as soup in the middle of a greater life-impending crisis. Unbidden, a grin tugged onto his face, and he continued. "I'm not always the most. . . common-sense resourceful of people." Maybe taking out some of the blow on himself would gain a response.

It worked, sure enough. She whipped around, brow furrowed in her special brand of raw anguish. "How can you say such things so lightly? Who knows what would have happened to her if she'd actually eaten it?" She started to rotate back toward the direction of her bedding, but he caught her wrist. The contact surprised her, and she was forced into listening.

"The most it would have done was give her an upset stomach. I'd have felt rotten, admittedly, but a stomachache is hardly a problem at this time." She felt her hardened repose struggling under his confused smile. Why did he have to look like he meant it? "So what's bothering you? Kagome-sama is alright."

He allowed her to wrench his hand away. She detested these kind of confrontations, especially when the other person involved happened to be Miroku. A verbal explanation failed to make sense of it. Why was she angry? She was not really certain. . . after a while, she had clung to it without a real cause, and now it seemed that the problem was not so much about soup and very much about Miroku himself. 

He saw her struggling to put her thoughts into words, saw the flare in her dwindle and almost vaporize until she spoke again, very softly. "I just. . . don't want you doing any more idiotic things." It wasn't a good answer, of that they both were well aware, but Miroku was wont to tempt her again from her range of comfort. For now, the feeble exchange was good enough. 

Sango allowed her welled-up breath to pour from her in one great, soul-emptying expellation of alleviation when he did not press. At times like this, she was not sure of things with her feelings or herself. She did not like to ponder it too often. But. . . despite the tremors that ripped through her, she felt gratitude toward him that, at the moment, could not be without more clarity and meaning.

Another smile. "Well, I can't promise you anything. . . But if it means that you'll consider banging me around less, it can't be of any hindrance to try."

In answering, the last of the anger faded and transfigured into the feeling of oddity that was slowly setting in, just as in all times like these, she managed a weak smile of respect. She, now both burden-free and burden-ridden, settled into the cot and faced into the shadow-work of the wooden wall, still trembling and mind racing.

He did likewise, humoring her pride, knowing well how she dealt with overwhelming complex emotions. The fire smoldered and dwindled, and, after a time, in semi-darkness, he offered: "Goodnight, Sango."

Still ever-so crumpled, and bidding sleep to come so that she could regain with morning her strength that would not now return, she too replied in the scarcest of whispers: "Goodnight. . . Miroku."

Mayhap an ordinary person wouldn't have heard, but Miroku did, and that alone helped him to drift away into sleep.

****

~*~*~*~*~

In the meantime, our male and female leads were enjoying the last of the dying embers outside, gazing into a slightly snow-tinted sky. It was a rare moment of silence between the two, and neither were too keen on breaking it.

Kagome shifted on the log which was being implemented as a makeshift seat, not minding the temperature so much as long as she was able to have Inuyasha's company. As usual, it had been a full day, and both were happy to bask in the relaxation. She inhaled the musky air deeply, content seeping through her, and rested her chin in her palms.

"Inuyasha?"

He turned to look at her, hair a thousand shining scintillations and eyes vibrant golden pools in the moonlight. "Hm?"

The queer, stomach-tickling, heart-lurching sensation happened. He was so. . . stunning. . . She shook her head sheepishly and continued, ending her daydreaming. "What. . . will happen when we find Naraku?"

He swivled his gaze into the remains of the nearly-doused fire in contemplation. There was no speech for many moments, and as the moments ticked by Kagome began to rethink asking him.

"I don't know," was the delayed answer he had labored so hard in turning up. "Naraku has a nearly completed Shikon no Tama with him, and even though we have a lot of shards, they're pretty pitiful in comparison to that kind of power. We're strong, but. . . against him, I don't know. But we have to try."

She nodded solemnly, line of vision falling to the heavily snow-encrusted ground. All of what he said was true, and that meant he still wanted to become a full demon. Now and then she'd asked him, each time trying to change his mind, but he had it set. It wasn't so much anymore about avenging Kikyou. . . he didn't even stop to question it, it had been his goal for such a long time. She hoped, that when the time came, she'd be able to make him realize. . . Now, however, was not a good time or place for a debate. It simply wasn't the mood. Instead, she opted for the only other thing that could console her in times like these.

"Inuyasha?" Her voice was timid as she called his attention for the second time.

"Yeah?" He was still serious.

"I'm cold again." Without warning, she scooted across the log until she was against him, relaxing her body into his for warmth.

"Wha-?" His eyes went wide at the sudden contact. "Kagome, what're you-?" He felt her sigh sleepily, completely trusting, and all of his energy to resist was vanquished as effortlessly as if it was never there.

"Well, then." He too relaxed then, indulging in a soft smile. A time waned on, both making no move to break the transference, and Inuyasha felt her break into the regulated, even breaths of slumber. Lifting her ever-so gingerly, he placed her light frame inside the sleeping bag she's set out earlier, watching her dream on in innocent oblivion to his stare.

He was glad they'd stopped, after all.

****

~*~*~*~*~

****

Authoress's General Disclaimer: Excessive thought of Cooking Spray as the true creator of Inuyasha may result in legal complications. As will reading too much fan fiction, but that may only result in permanent corruption of the mind, which warrants a visit to your friendly neighborhood psychologist. Nope, a band-aid won't fix this.

Fluffiness abound! I was in the mood to write a romantic chapter. In addition, we learned a little about the mirror. It sounds like a hokey plot device, but. . . I'm notoriously slow at stringing things together.

Also, my friend Angel (read her story _The Little Demon Girl _on fictionpress!) met a Japanese man while chatting online who says he's a screenwriter for Inuyasha! We're still waiting for validity, but if he turns out to be truthful, he said he might consider this fic for a future episode! Probably won't happen, but still cool, no? He also said that he'd have all his friends review. Sugoi! 

Please send all commentary by clicking 'Go'!

~*NEXT CHAPTER*~

Symptoms

Kouga and his companions run into the sextet of heroes and spawn old jealousies anew that leave everyone with a drop of sweat at their temple. However, things soon cool at the arrival of a bustling trade village, where a shard is gained but also lost. Also, Sesshoumaru's small party has began to become entwined in the mystery that is the mirror. . . 


	4. Symptoms

****

Band-Aids

by Cooking Spray

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Four:

Symptoms

Coarse rifts of winds overtook the frosted, barren plains, a constant biting nuisance on one's cheeks. The wolf-child called Kouga turned a blind eye to these natural inconveniences as he soldiered on through the rifts of snow, heedless of the naggings and moaning of his two companions. The scent of Naraku was strong, and physical discomfort was no obstacle. He must find him and gain his revenge at last, and this might prove to be the only chance he'd receive.

"Augh. . . Kouga, can't we at least stop for rest? It's so cold, and we've been traveling all night. . ." The protestor's words were meek and almost inaudible, fading completely by the end. He was immediately sorry he'd asked as Kouga turned sharply and glared a handful of sharp, polished daggers.

"_Stop? _When we're closer to Naraku's trail than we have _ever _been?" He halted completely, fatigue further fueling his rage. "Did you not see it with your own eyes? Our village was destroyed; our people murdered. Crushed by the evil hand of that bastard!" Kouga leaned until he and the unlucky accomplice's noses almost touched. The man quivered in fear, submissive. "Are you going to let him slip through your fists?"

"N-no. . . of course not. . ." All of the man's thoughts of rest were overpowered by a fear for his life. If he were to further incite Kouga's wrath, he would be left in the middle of the tundra to meet a cold death. Despite his desperate need for slumber, he submitted.

"Then stop making idiotic suggestions and keep in line." He turned and gave his victim a rude shove, knocking him breathless but relieved into the snow.

"Let's move it." He trudged on further into the infinite white sea, leaving the third party to glance fleetingly at the results of his master's rage writhing and gasping on the ground below before following.

With each step thereafter, Kouga's gaze narrowed with building hatred as the aura of his nemesis strengthened. Whether from the impending battle he would emerge alive or no, he would get his revenge. Of this much he knew.

****

~*~*~*~*~

It was blue, aquamarine all around. And wet. Very wet. She flailed her arms; thousands of tiny bubbles appeared at the disturbing action. Shafts of light from the world above shone in mystic rings, and suddenly she was aware of them getting smaller, and of the world surrounding her becoming bluer. . . A strike of fear rippled through her. She struggled wildly, fought to climb for air. But it was futile, and soon her movements became less and less. And then, there was nothing. . .

Kagome's eyes flounced open, dilated from the nightmarish exploits of her slumber, and she gasped in the breath that her subconscious could not. She calculated the roof of thatch above her, the cotton cushioning of her sleeping bag, and the gathering of ashes from the previous night's fire, checking them for validity, as a bad dream often causes one to do. After ensuring that she was safely awake in the real world, she let out the breath and relaxed into the soft folds of her sleeping bag. What a strange dream. . .

The sound of the tarp shifting that had been placed over the opening of the hut to shield the cold further roused her. Miroku's figure came into view, grinning in his happy-go-lucky manner.

"Ah, you're awake! Good morning, Kagome-sama!"

"'Morning, Miroku. . ." She pulled herself erect with some effort, sliding out of the warm comfort of the sleeping bag and kneeling to roll it up. Rubbing her eyes in a groggy morning gesture, she yawned.

"You'd better hurry. Inuyasha's getting impatient. The sun rose two hours ago."

Kagome snorted. "Well, let him be impatient. I'm doing things on my own time. Trust me, you wouldn't want to see the results of me on a bad night's sleep."

The priest laughed in affirmation. "'Hell hath no fury than a woman without her bed rest.' Sometimes I wonder if it's really Naraku we're fighting."

Miroku's mention of bed rest again brought to her attention the dream. Kagome paused, her fingers loosening the vice that they had on the sleeping bag's restraining straps and allowing them to slowly unfurl. Her brow was knitted in contemplation, the pulse of her body flailing under water flowing through her mind in remembrance.

"Miroku. . ."

The priest stopped laughing, the smile settling back into place as he regarded her. "Hm? What is it, Kagome-sama?"

"I had a strange dream last night. . ." As she turned to face him, his expression turned serious. This was obviously a grave matter. He waited for her to fit together the words to continue. "I was. . . I was underwater. I could see the surface above me, see the light shining down. I was smiling, looking at it. . . and then I realized I couldn't breathe. I began to flail my arms and try to swim upwards, but I kept sinking further down to the bottom. And then, when I became exhausted, about to give up and drown. . . I hit the bottom, and then I woke up."

There was a rare berth of silence as the monk seemed to process what Kagome had told him. The dream's weaver herself also noticed she was a little tense, but shook it off. It was probably nothing, just the result of an overactive imagination. Still, it disconcerted her. . .

Finally there was an answer. "Your dream sounds odd, Kagome-sama. As you are well aware, since you possess the shards of the Shikon no Tama, you are constantly in threat of attack by the greedy demons who seek their power. And there are those who find their way into your sleep. . . I don't know exactly what it means, but you should be cautious. Whether it is an omen of some sort, I can't tell, but don't let the shards get out of your sight."

Kagome managed a nod, her thoughts beginning to ebb and pool within her head. She began to re-roll the sleeping bag, her hands more dexterous as the tides of her mind raged. _Greedy demons who seek their power. . . don't let the shards get out of your sight. . . an omen. . ._

Miroku's cheer returned, almost as quickly as if nothing were ever amiss. "Well, I'll leave you to prepare now. I'm going to go try to restrain Inuyasha for you. Ja ne!" He lifted the tarp and began to traipse over to the campfire, his footsteps crunching in the snow becoming fainter and fainter. 

"Ja ne!" Kagome managed. She stood, carrying the bundle over to her pack and stuffing it inside with the rest of the cramped provisions. Miroku's words had left an impact she hadn't foretold. She shivered involuntarily. Somehow, the day seemed darker.

She banished the feeling, trying to be optimistic. Even though there was surely more onslaught ahead, she had to keep her spirits high to pull through this. Nightmares or no, she had to keep looking forward.

With newly-instilled confidence, she hoisted her pack upon her shoulders and lifted the tarp one final time, her breath making a cloud in the bitter cold air. Whatever awaited, she was prepared to face it.

Or so she lead herself to believe.

****

~*~*~*~*~

The sun peaked overhead and the snow responded by becoming a blinding expanse of gleaming white, causing many pairs of squinted eyes. The wind had calmed, for the most part, and although Kagome's legs still ached with cold, it was bearable. Inuyasha was in another of his infamous sour moods, his expression surly and nature unsocial. This was largely caused by Kagome's leisurely sleep, which caused them to lose valuable time in pursuing Naraku.

Well, he could just be angry if he wanted to. It was his fault that she was tired, anyhow. Honestly, the things a person had to do to please around here!

A timid voice broke the nervous silence at long last. "Anou. . . Inuyasha, where are we heading?" questioned Sango tentatively.

There was a pause of about ten seconds before the answer was received. "Toward the ocean. His presence is strongest somewhere along the shore." The hanyou grunted. "Of course, knowing Naraku, we'll probably encounter several of his minions along the way. We've lost too much time already, though, so the best thing we can do is plow on ahead and take the route that bypasses the forest. There won't be much opportunity for assault on an open landscape."

Sango made a small noise of assent. "His aura's growing more powerful, and his minions stronger and more frequent. We'd better be careful." Kirara mewled at her side to show that she shared her owner's sentiments.

The conversation lapsed into silence again as everyone contemplated what had been said. Kagome absently rumpled Shippo's hair, who had returned to his favorite sentry coiled around her neck after the snow had become too cold. Indeed, Naraku's aura was becoming forebodingly powerful. The thought of an impending battle with that enormous power made her shiver. Previous failures entered her mind, one after another, and her fingers clenched the strap of her backpack fiercely. Tetsusaiga was still difficult for Inuyasha to wield, and for all of his strength, Naraku's power still superceded his by far. . .

Something caught Kagome's eye, causing her head to snap upward to the horizon. She was instantly blinded by an assaulting wall of ice crystals refracting the noon day sun, forcing her to squint her eyes shut at the explosion of colors that had burst forth. When her eyes finally recovered, and she was able to look up again (with more caution than before for her vision, assuredly), she could discern a figure, distant and no more than a black dot flanked by two others. They were approaching with amazing speed, causing Kagome to gasp. The jar that contained the jewel shards pulsed faintly at her hip. Whatever it was, it carried a piece of the Shikon no Tama within it.

Her breath became shut into her chest and her body rigid with concentration. She stopped, eyes riveted to the enclosing silhouettes. The shards continued to react with their sisters on the hilltop, surging with power and awareness as they jiggled in their container. Somehow, though, this aura felt strangely familiar. . .

Shippo noticed her tense state with concern. "Kagome-chan, what is it?" He followed her gaze to the hilltop, not immediately making anything out due to the brightness. Then, the kitsune's eyes locked on her focus, gasping. "Someone's heading toward us! Inuyasha! Inuyasha!"

Everyone's attention was captured and their defenses triggered. Inuyasha vaulted to Kagome's side in an instant, his hand firm on Tetsusaiga's hilt. A deep, warning growl rumbled in Kirara's throat as she centered her eyes on the three figures, her fur and tail standing on end. Obviously, there was something to be wary of.

Inuyasha sniffed the air for a few seconds before making a decision about the enemy they faced. With uncalcuably fast speed and quite without warning, he drew the Tetsusaiga, its blade reflecting the alabaster hills all around them. "It carries not one Shikon shard with it, but several. It's really too far away to tell anything else just yet."

Kagome nodded, every muscle taut as she continued to feel the shards resonate. Her face looked back at her from Tetsusaiga's well-polished blade, distraught and tight-lipped, brow deeply furrowed. "Their aura seems somewhat. . . familiar. . . however, I can't place from where. . ."

Sango's hand felt for her boomerang, but Miroku caught it halfway. "Houshi-sama. . ." She looked up to him for an explanation, annoyance beginning to stir in her eyes. The monk just placed a finger to his lips, which would have made Sango even more angry, had he not added the words, "Look," and gestured to the valley below.

All of her tempest was extinguished as her eyes found what he was indicating. The figures had mounted the crest of the hill and were now streaming into the valley beyond at an alarmingly fast pace. Did they intend to climb directly up the rocky ledge to the summit? It was incredibly foolish, but it seemed as if that were the case. Also, as their visitors drew nearer, something else was bothering her. She squinted against the glare, straining her eyes to see further. That central figure. . . he looked familiar. . . almost like. . .

"Kouga!" Kagome beat her to the punch line, her exclamation punctuated with shock.

****

~*~*~*~*~

**Okay, everyone, first of all, I'm very, very sorry that I haven't been able to update over the past couple of months. Christmas kept me rather busy this year, as did Thanksgiving, and there was a lot of family stuff going on as well. Not to mention that we were remodeling my house, and I had to work out of the living room for a period of time. Which, as you could probably imagine, wasn't exactly the best place to write. Thankfully, I'm in my new room now again. Please forgive me!**

Secondly, this chapter is a little shorter than it was intended to be, so the preview that you all read last time may have been a bit misleading. I just desperately needed to make an update, and this seemed like a good place to cut it short. I hope everyone has enjoyed it, and that it wasn't too terribly disappointing. ^_^ There'll be a longer chapter next time.

Leave a review, now!


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